Follow Me
by Mitsuki the wolf girl
Summary: At Hogwarts nothing is ever as it seems. Harry Potter and the D.A. are returning after the war but there is an attack before summers end and a few relationships are torn apart while others remain stagnant. Someone is attempting to resurrect Voldemort and Harry must work to keep his friends together while reconciling with old enemies and making new friends. Pairings undetermined.
1. The midnight visitor

_Authors Note: I do not own Harry Potter or it's characters. Everyone not of my own design belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling._

 _The timeline is a bit different from the war and a few things have changed. Victorie is a few months older than Teddy Lupin and Fred is still alive. This is set just after the war's end._

 _Number 12 Grimmuald place – Dusk._

Harry Potter, who had at one time not-so-long-ago fought for his life against the most feared Wizard in the world, sat eating treacle tart at a long table in the kitchen of his home at number 12 Grimmuald place. It was an unsettlingly mundane evening. Harry, who was so used to fighting for his life, running from death eaters, protecting his friends and finding Horcrux's found that whenever he sat down for too long his leg began to twitch and his head filled with irritated, cooped up thoughts. Why hadn't the Aura office contacted him lately? He knew there were still Death Eaters needing to be rounded up. The last mission he went on was with Ron and Hermione to Malfoy mansion where they were informed that Lucius Malfoy had gone missing. Harry ground his teeth together in irritation. If there was ANYONE he would like to see brought to justice it was the ever-self-indulgent Lucius Malfoy.

While Harry fantasized about capturing (and, perhaps, accidently using Sectumsempra) to round up Lucius Malfoy his fireplace that had been burning embers just moments ago flared green and a newspaper shot across the room and collided with his face, knocking him backwards and sending him sprawling onto the floor. "Ouch! What the…" He caught the headline title which glared out at him in emerald ink;

The Battle Of Hogwarts – Aftermath

An exclusive article by Rita Skeeter

Head journalist of 'The Quibbler'

Harry contemplated this phenomenon. Rita Skeeter, that foul woman, a journalist for the obscure Quibbler? Hermione must have been threatening Rita with exposing her as an Animagus again. That was the only rational explanation. Ignoring the oddities of this occurrence Harry decided to continue reading.

Nearly a year has passed since what is now being referred to as the 'Battle of Hogwarts' where 'The Boy Who Lived' or Harry Potter as we all know him defeated Tom Marvolo Riddle formally known as 'The Dark Lord'

Harry wondered if he should continue reading but his curiosity had a hold of him and he could not bring himself to stop.

Tom Marvolo Riddle or Lord Voldemort has plagued both the magical and non-magical worlds for nearly half-a-century. Eighteen years ago he met his downfall in the form of the infant Harry Potter. There is only speculation as to why this occurred. Voldemort returned to power nearly two years ago, managed to murder the Minister of Magic Rufus Scrimgour and took control of the ministry of magic. All of this cultivated during the Battle of Hogwarts where more than fifty lives were lost. Among those lost was the famed Mad-Eye Moody. Remus and Nymphadora 'Tonks' Lupin. Lavender Brown. Collin Creevy. And countless others. Now nearly a year has passed and lives are slowly reshaping themselves. Both the magical and muggle worlds were affected by tragedies and the battle will not soon be forgotten.

Assisting in the recovery effort are a number of 'temporary Aurors' including the famed Harry Potter himself. Along with Harry Potter there are a number of members from Dumbledore's Army which consist of Hogwarts school children who played a crucial role in the battle. Neville Longbottom, son of the Auror's Alice and Frank Longbottom, who were driven to madness by Bellatrix Lestrange, is among those. The daughter of Xenophilus Lovegood, editer-in-chief of The Quibbler, Luna Lovegood is also working as a temporary Auror. Harry Potter's known accomplices Hermione Jean Granger and Ronald Bilus Weasley are also listed.

Harry stopped to chuckle. He would have to point this article out to Ron who, for obvious reasons, detested the use of his full name.

These temporary Auror's have thus-far managed to round up most known Death Eaters though a few big names continue to elude the department. The most unsettling of these names, perhaps, is that of Rodolphus Lestrange who never renounced his Death Eater title. Among those also still at large is Lucius Malfoy whose wife and son Narcissisa and Draco Malfoy were acquitted of all charges after Harry Potter himself testified on their behalf. The minister of magic Kingsley Shaklebolt assures us that it is only a matter of time before these men, too, are apprehended.

There is, however, new life after the Battle of Hogwarts. Teddy Lupin, son of the Auror Nymphadora Tonks Lupin and Remus Lupin (listed among those deceased) will turn one-year-old this December. Bill Weasley, who fought valiantly in the Battle of Hogwarts was blessed with a new addition to his Family when his wife Fluer gave birth to a happy, healthy baby girl Victorie during the beginning of June last year.

These new young lives are truly proof that despite the horrors of war life will always find a way to prevail.

Harry figured this was the most respectable article Rita Skeeter has ever written. Including the full interview she did with Harry after the return of Voldemort four years ago.

Stay tuned for next week's exclusive issue which will include interviews from a few of the survivors, names that will surely go down in history for playing a pivotal role in the fall of Voldemort and his followers. As always, I'm Rita Skeeter; Head journalist of The Quibbler,' bringing you the stories you crave to hear.

Harry set the paper down upon the table and let out the breath he had been holding, surprised that no one had been humiliated or defamed in the article, something Rita Skeeter was particularly fond of. However he couldn't help but feeling relieved that he hadn't submitted himself for interview. No doubt she wouldn't be able to keep her craving for a more artistically revamped story under control for much longer.

Harry wondered about his friends, which he had been doing for the better half of the last few weeks. They had developed, it seemed, a nasty habit of ignoring him over the summer. Hermione had the best excuse for not writing. After Kingsley assured them that Rodolpus and Lucius would have gone abroad and into hiding and that she could if she so wished it go fetch her parents from Australia. Hermione had jumped at the opportunity and taken off at the next available moment, leaving both Harry and her new boyfriend Ron behind to await her return.

Harry couldn't help but wonder why it was taking so long. He hoped she hadn't run into any trouble while abroad, though he knew that Ron would have gone with her to protect her if she had let him. Instead she insisted that this was a trip she needed to conduct on her own. Harry understood her feelings. He often found himself visiting his parents grave in Godric's Hollow with increasing frequency, a trip he preferred to take by himself, if only because he couldn't stand anyone seeing how many tears he continued to shed upon their graves. It was embarrassing enough when Hermione watched him cry for them last Christmas.

Harry slipped into his Pajama's and flipped through the rest of The Quibbler. Satisfied that there were no more articles to interest him he flexed his muscles and headed upstairs to his bedroom.

Sleep eluded him. Too many things raced through his mind: school, his parents, Ron and Hermione. For the few moments of sleep he did manage he dreamt of slithering serpents with sharp basilisk fangs and wild slitted red eyes. Unexpectedly, near three in the morning, he felt something tugging upon his arm.

Harry shot up out of bed, looking around wildly. His wand and glasses were on the nightstand near him but Harry soon realized he was in no danger. His heartbeat thundering in his chest he noticed Kreature's presence. "Master" the house elf croaked "Someone has apparated upon the doorstep. Kreature hears sobbing. What should Kreature do?"

Harry stared at him, attempting to register what was being said. Sobbing…on his doorstep? Who would be... "HERMIONE!" He shouted, throwing his covers back. "Go open the door, Kreature, let her in" The house elf disappeared with another crack as Harry located his glasses and left his room (the room that had previously belonged to his godfather Sirius Black.) He dashed down three flights of stairs (momentarily forgetting he could just apparate down the stairs.)

Something was wrong. He could feel it in the very core of his being. And not just with Hermione. No. Something was wrong elsewhere. He couldn't explain the sudden feeling that plagued him.

Subconsciously she had decided not to go to Ron's. Instead of showing up on the doorstep of the Burrow, shaken and sobbing, she ended up on the porch of Number 12 Grimmuald Place. Thinking back, this behavior was unexplainable. Rationalized only by the thought that she wasn't coherent enough to think at the time and only ended up at the first place that had popped into her head. It was a simple explanation for her behavior but was not exactly sufficient. Why Grimmuald place? Ron and her were 'together', weren't they? Though of course their relationship had been unstable at best. Still though on that particularly rainy night she found herself knocking upon the serpent knocker at the early hour of three A.M.

Her body was shaking from violent sobbing and she pulled her jacket tighter around her torso in hopes to ward off the memory of what had just occurred. It took a moment before the small, old house elf Kreature opened the door. He seemed to swallow back what he wanted to say. "Good evening, friend of Master's" He said instead, bowing low. "The master will be down to greet you. Would you like a cup of tea?" He asked. She couldn't get the words out past her wracking sobs. Instead Kreature lead her to the basement kitchen where she dropped down upon one of the familiar wooden chairs and buried her face into her arms.

After a moment someone could be heard descending the stairs and entering the kitchen. He stopped abruptly. "Hermione?" Harry asked. He could hear her crying. "Hermione! What happened?" He dropped down into a chair beside her and placed a hand upon her shoulder blade to comfort her. "Where did you come from? What's going on?" The worst possible scenarios ran through his head all at once. Had she been attacked by a rouge Death Eater? Had something happened to Ron? What could possibly cause her, who was so coolly rational, to cry like this? "Hermione" He spoke softly "Please tell me what happened so I can help." He stroked her hair in an attempt to sooth her as Kreature brought the pair warm mugs of tea. "Thank you, Kreature" He added as the elf bustled off to busy himself.

"Oh Harry!" Hermione began, sniffing and rubbing her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. "I went to –to find my p-parents now that the Ministry has taken care of the death eaters. I thought…I thought it would be ok now" She hiccupped a few times before continuing and Harry felt a spike of fear. Had Hermione's parents been killed?

"Mom…she…she" A fresh wave of tears overcame her as she pulled a yellow piece of paper out of her pocket and thrust it into Harry's chest. The parchment was a newspaper clipping. It read;

 _Wendell and Monica Wilkins_

 _Blessed with a new arrival to the family_

 _The famous Dentists residing in Sydney_

 _Added the new edition on July 15_

 _Named Hermione Jean Wilkins_

 _The dentist community of Sydney_

 _Would like to congratulate them_

 _on their new arrival._

 _Many happy memories._

Harry stared at the paper for what seemed like forever. Hermione had broken down into more tears. Finally she spoke "I couldn't reverse their memories, Harry. They were so happy holding that baby I-I saw them from the nursery window and I c-c- I just couldn't do it!" More tears came. Harry wasn't sure how to console her.

"Hermione this…" He was lost for proper words. True it had been more than nine months since Hermione erased her parents memories and relocated them to Australia but to think that they would have a baby and then give it Hermione's name…and somewhere in the back of Harry's mind he realized that this was his fault. He continued to pat her on the back as he read the clipping over and over again in his head. After a while it seemed as if she had run out of tears and she busied herself with drinking the tea creature had brought for them.

"Maybe if I had gone to reverse the spell sooner…but I thought..the death eaters were angry and some of them were still killing. I knew it would be dangerous. I n-never thought that they would…" But she couldn't finish. No more tears came yet she was still unable to continue. "Oh, Harry. What will I do?"

Harry, honestly, hadn't the slightest idea. "You should sleep" He finally offered. "C' mon. It's been a long day, right? You can stay in the guest bedroom for now." She allowed him to steer her up the stairs and into the guest bedroom where he left her to sleep. He could hear her crying for a while until, finally, she was quiet.

Hermione was already sitting at the breakfast table the next morning. She was poking at the food Kreature had offered her without the faintest traces of an appetite. Harry came down a while later, stretching and yawning. He still wasn't sure what to say to her but figured a simple 'Good morning' would suffice. "Morning, Harry" She greeted. Her voice was empty.

"Hermione…have you talked to Ron yet?" He asked. He felt intrusive seeing Hermione's tears when she had a boyfriend who was at more liberty than he to comfort her.

"Not yet, no." Her voice was hollow and dead. It scared him.

"Maybe you should write him?" Harry suggested. It might have made her feel better. He was sure the pair hadn't seen each other since she left for Australia nearly a week ago.

"Maybe" Listless.

"Er, tea?" He filled her cup up, feeling increasingly awkward.

"What am I going to do, Harry?" She said suddenly. "I've been staying at the Burrow for the time being but it's crowded and I don't really want to be a bother. I want to go home. I miss my room and my things and my bed and my parents. And now, all of the sudden, I have nowhere to go."

"You could go back to the Burrow. You're Ron's girlfriend. I'm sure Mrs. Weasley is happy to have you." If Mrs. Weasley was half as happy to see Hermione as she was to see Harry then Harry didn't understand what the problem was.

"That isn't the point. I'm another mouth to feed and I don't have any money of my own. Sure I work for the Ministry helping the Auror department but they haven't got around to actually paying me. And even when they do I won't be making enough to buy a home. And the Burrow is crowded. Ginny and I have been crammed together and I know it's beginning to irritate her and I just – just." She had finally gotten down to the true reason she felt uncomfortable at the Burrow. "Seeing Mr. and Mrs. Weasley make me miss my parents. If I go back I know it will only be worse. I don't think I can stand it." She was on the verge of tears, her eyes red and puffy and swollen. Her hair was disshelved and her clothes were dirty. She looked a mess.

Harry knew what had to be done. "Stay with me, then."

His offer made her jerk her head up to stare at him. A tiny flicker of hope shone behind her eyes. "Oh Harry, could I?" She asked it as if it were to good to be true. As if he might realize what he had said and take it back.

"Of course. I've got money, that's not a problem. Even more now that Sirius has left me the Black family fortune as well. We can go gather your things from your house and have a room ready by morning. There are a number of rooms in the house to choose from. Kreature stays in Regulus's old room and I'm sleeping in Sirius's. You could sleep in one of the guest bedrooms. It's the best solution, right?" He smiled genuinely at her. Kreature made good company but there was something immensely comforting about having a human companion.

Without saying anything Hermione flung herself into Harry's arms as she was so keen on doing. She was crying once more. He patted her back for a while before she pulled away. "I'll go home and gather my things then." She stood up and Harry offered her his hand.

"I'll accompany you." She grasped his hand and pulled them both into the blackness. They landed before Hermione's home in a garden square. The home was quite and undisturbed. The lawn was overgrown and unkempt. Hermione thrust her key into the lock and made her way upstairs, waving her wand so that the light switches flicked on as she went. Harry mostly assisted by holding boxes or trash bags. Hermione moved through the entirety of the house picking through the things her parents had left behind. She took photos from the living room and restored them with a swish of her wand. From her parents' bedroom she took a blanket that she particularly fancied. The pair of them apparate back and forth between Hermione's old home and Grimmuald place all throughout the morning and into the late afternoon. The last thing Hermione managed, with difficulty, to remove from the house was her parents bed. She decided that she would leave hers behind in hopes that this one would keep her parents memory alive within her. Of how things used to be before she warped their memories and they forgot her completely. After the first task was completed she busied herself with creating one of the guests rooms into a passable room of living for herself. Near dinner time she met Harry in the basement and ate potato soup that Kreature had prepared.

"Have you spoken to Ron yet?" Harry asked her. He slurped greedily on the soup, his stomach protesting from high activity and minimal food intake.

"I haven't…" Hermione admitted. Something in her voice made Harry pause.

"You will though, won't you?" He asked. He could see the answer in her face. "Hermione. Ron will want to know your back safe. He will want to know you're here. Why don't you want to write to him?" Hermione no longer looked at him. She stared into the depths of her soup.

"I don't want to…bother him…about it." She admitted. In fact, she hadn't really thought of the reason, she just knew that she didn't want to see Ron at the moment. There was no real reason as to why.

"I'll write him then" Harry said "He has a right to know." He had been thrilled when Hermione and Ron FINALLY got together. It seemed that they were the only ones slow on the uptake. Something in Hermione's face told him that things between her and Ron were not well. Something told him they hadn't been well since long before she left to fetch her parents.

She didn't protest or say anything else on the subject. After she took a few more spoonfuls she disappeared into her room and didn't return for a good while. It wasn't until Harry was walking up the stairs to retire to bed himself well after midnight that she descended the stairs with a letter grasped tightly in her hand. "Whazat?" Harry asked through a rather large yawn.

"A letter I'm sending to Ron. Did you get a new owl?" She wasn't sure she should ask. The death of Hedwig was something Harry hadn't ever gotten a chance to properly grieve.

"I haven't. Kreature can take it in the morning. Just set it on the table with the proper address, alright?" He yawned once more. "Goodnight, Hermione" He added before continuing his climb up the stairs.

Days passed and the two of them settled into comfortable routine. No word had come from Ron yet. Not an inkling of assurance that the letter Kreature had hand deliver had reached it's destination. Hermione didn't see as disturbed by the lack of response as Harry felt. She had acted like a Zombie for the entire day after he sent it. He knew enough to realize that the letter held no good news. Had she broken it off with him? Would he show up on the porch of Grimmuald place soon and cause a fuss? Why WASN'T he showing up on the porch of Grimmuald place and causing a fuss? That worried him more than anything.

Harry and Hermione continued their comfortable roommate arrangements over the next few weeks. She left daily to work at the Ministry. She was working as a secretary to the Auror department. She had also purchased a jet black owl which remained unnamed so that the pair of them could send letters to various correspondences without bothering Kreature. It was during one of these occasions where Hermione was at work that Harry received his own letter addressed to him by Ginny. Harry and Ginny had sent letters back and forth and had, for reasonable intent, decided to keep their relationship plutonic for the time. Or for eternity. They were simply playing it by ear.

The letter read;

 _Harry,_

 _Ron told me Hermione is staying with you at Grimmuald place. I don't know what happened between them but Ron's a mess. I was hoping you had a bit of information. Not knowing what's going on between them is infuriating. Mum's having a hard time with Ron. He hasn't eaten or slept in days. Is Hermione alright? Send her my love. Also, if she isn't planning on coming back I rather think you should come get Crookshanks. He seems to be upset that she's left him and has been attacking people for nearly a week. I've got more scratches from the damn cat than from the death eaters._

 _Write back soon,_

 _Love,_

 _Ginny W._

Harry read the letter and then he re-read the letter. He decided that now, while Hermione was gone, was as good a time as any to visit the Weasley's. He arrived in the garden some moments later and approached the house. Knocking on the door he waited. Mrs. Weasley answered. She seemed taken aback by his presence. "Oh, Harry, dear" She finally registered him. "How good of you to come." She shuffled him upstairs. Instead of stopping at Ginny's door she left him standing before Ron's. With a great sigh, Harry pushed open the door. Ron was sitting on his bed. It was obvious that he hadn't bathed in a while.

"Hey" Harry greeted, moving into the messy room. He could no longer see the floor. Ron was staring at what could only be Hermione's letter.

"Why'd she do it, Harry?" He asked. Harry sat down on the cot opposite his best friend.

"I dunno. She's in a rough place right now, I think." He said, eying the letter. He would be lying if he said he wasn't interested in what it said. Ron thrust it towards him.

 _It breaks my heart to write this letter. I no longer believe that it is helpful for us to be together. Please do not ask for an explanation for I cannot give you one quite yet. Just know that I love you. Please, find it in your heart to forgive what I am about to say. I've wished that the pair of us could be together for such a long time now but I realize that it is not the correct time. I'm sorry. I got back from Australia alright, Harry seems convinced you should know this. I'm staying with him at Grimmuald place. Please do not be jealous. It isn't like that. This is necessity. For the moment it is the only home I have. Make sure to thank your mother and Ginny for letting me stay this past year. I treasure every moment spent with you and your family whom I love. I regret my decision to send this letter with every fiber of my being but unfortunately it must be done._

 _Please be ok._

 _Hermione._

No wonder Hermione had seemed so helpless the next day. Ron took the letter back from him, smoothed it out and read it to himself for what Harry knew would be the thousandth time. "You holding up alright?" Harry asked him finally "Ginny seems to be worried about you."

Ron sort of glanced at him without really seeing. "Ginny should mind her own business." He spoke. Harry couldn't help but glare.

"She has every right to be worried about you." He growled, warning in his voice. Ron couldn't even bring himself to respond.

"You came here to see her, then, did you? Take Crookshanks. I can't stand the sight of him.." There was hidden bitterness in his voice. Harry took this as a dismissal. He knew that if he remained upstairs with the sullen Ron that the pair of them would end up fighting. Instead he headed down to the second floor landing where Ginny's room was located. It was opened a crack. She was sitting upon her desk composing a letter to someone when he entered.

"Just a minute" She said. Harry took a seat on her bed, the smell of her all around him caused an aching pain in his chest. She sealed the letter and sent it off with the owl who had been perched in her windowsill.

"Who are you writing to?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

"Neville" She answered simply, turning in her chair to regard him. He felt the familiar pang of longing he always felt in her presence.

He handed her the newspaper clipping. Hermione hadn't remembered to pick up. Ginny read it twice before covering her mouth with her hand. "No…" She spoke, incredulous. "This is…it must have…is she alright?"

"As best she can be, I suppose." Harry answered, running his fingers through his hair in a vain attempt to tame his locks. Ginny shook her head in disbelieve.

"No wonder she broke it off with Ron. This is horrid. Poor Hermione." She passed him back the clipping. "I wouldn't be able to concentrate on a relationship knowing my parents were off replacing me if I were her either. She can give them their memories back but it would just.."

"Confuse them, yeah. Break up a happy home as well." Harry shook his head. "The best option was the one she took. To leave them be and try to move on." Ginny still looked upset. "I'll keep an eye on her. When all this is behind her she might go back to your brother. It'll just take time. That's all."

"Yeah…" Ginny sighed. It seemed like there were a lot of things that would 'just take time.' Sometimes she wished time would go ahead and hurry up.

"She'll be home soon. I want to get Crookshanks back before she returns. I think seeing him again will make her feel better." Harry hated to make the excuse, but memories of Ginny's lips were too tempting. He wouldn't be able to resist them for too much longer. She dug Crookshanks out from under her bed, hissing and spitting. They gave each other an awkward hug with the thrashing cat between them (he gave Harry a nasty swipe under the chin) before Harry took him and bid Ginny one final good bye before disaparating.

Hermione returned home some time later. She didn't look like she had recovered much and her eyes were puffy from fresh tears. Though he supposed that it could only be a good sign that her arms were full of newly bought schoolbooks that she could focus on during the last week of summer. She was thrilled to see Crookshanks again. He stopped hissing when he saw her and immediately settled into her lap. "I've missed him" She informed Harry, stroking the cats head. Harry wondered if it was irony that Crookshanks was ginger.

"I went to the Weasley's today" He said it even though it did not need to be said. He thought she needed to know.

"How are they?" She asked, immersed in 'The Standard Book Of Spells Grade Seven'.

"Ginny's alright. She was writing to Neville. Apparently they are throwing a party for Victorie soon so the whole house is full. Ron was alright, sort of." He hadn't realized till that moment how much the thought of Ginny writing to Neville irritated him. What could the pair possibly have to say to one another? Had something happened while Harry was off finding Horcrux's? No…Luna had been with them. Surely she would have told Harry if it had. "We're invited. To the party, I mean." He felt awkwardness envelop them.

"I imagine it's best if I don't go." Harry had expected her to say it.

"Yeah. I don't much feel like going, either." He wondered if Neville was invited and a new surge of jealousy threatened. Hermione smiled warmly at him, clearly touched.

"Don't skip out on my account" She scolded him, sounding more like the original non-weepy Hermione. "Or is this about Ginny?" She cocked an eyebrow at him. He frowned. Yes, she was looking more-and-more like the all knowing Hermione by the second.

"I don't want to talk about it" He said. That sentence wasn't exactly true. Hermione was the only one he COULD talk to about it. And she knew that as well as he did.

"Come on, Harry." She gave him a typical look.

"I dumped her. It's not like I can just go back up to her and pretend it never happened. Besides, Ron would kill me and frankly he's got enough on his mind without worrying about the innocents of his sister." Hermione snorted, making Harry's blood run cold. "What's that for?" He demanded.

Hermione covered "You're still thinking more about Ron than yourself. Come on, Harry. Do something for you for once. You've spent the last year finishing a task for Dumbledore. I think you deserve a little reprieve from your Knight complex." He frowned, the words 'you do have a tendency to want to, you know, save people' bouncing around inside his head.

"What do you suggest, then?" He asked.

"Tell her how you feel, Harry, honestly. It's not hard. Feelings are a lot like magic. With the right words and correct motions you can make anything happen. Keep that in mind" She slammed her copy of The Standard Book Of Spells Grade Seven closed and stood up. "Goodnight"

"Goodnight" Harry muttered, thoughts of how best to re-approach Ginny dancing behind his eyelids. He would have to remember to thank Hermione for her advice come morning. If only he had some advice for her situation. The best he could do was give her space and attempt to not utter Ron's name in casual conversation. It reminded him too painfully of the time Ron had abandoned them while they were on the run. He didn't want to relive those days and he was assured Hermione didn't either.

A.N. – I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Things get much more exciting from here. Please read and review!


	2. Dragon Women

**A/N – As usual I own nothing but my own characters. I hope you like my story so far! I will continue to attempt to update it around once a month. Hopefully I can keep up.**

 **Please read and review and remember no flames!**

 **Ottery St. Catchpole – Dawn.**

Dawn rose quickly over the tired town of Ottery St. Catchpole. Light glittered and danced through open windows as tiny people scurried out to fetch the newspaper in their dressing gowns. Other people readied themselves for the day's work while bleary eyed school children complained about being woken on a near-perfect-for-sleeping-in summers day. One house in particular, odd in shape, size and design that was obscurely stacked against the skyline stood out against the horizon. Though, of course, the little villagers remained blissfully unaware of this houses existence even though it procured a rather large chunk of the St. Catchpole country side.

Inside this interestingly bizarre little house a single person was bustling around. She was a short slightly dumpy woman with flaming red hair. She was holding what looked like a simple stick from the garden and swinging it wildly towards the countertop where, it seemed, a wooden spoon was stirring soup very much of its own accord. Inside the murky soup boiled and emitted a warm smell one could only associate with love and with family.

The woman had a number of things on her mind. The peculiar little clock with the initials of each of her children and her husband all pointed towards 'home'. This in itself was a very rare occasion. Most of the woman's children had jobs, their own homes, and their own responsibilities. She had to admit that having them all at her house once more, although making things a bit more crowded than usual, gave her immense pleasure. Even her prideful son, Percy, who had been estranged from the family until about a year ago had joined them for the occasion. Of the things on the woman's mind, what she seemed to be worrying her most was her youngest boy (youngest of six others.) He was, no doubt, lying about on the top floor where his bedroom jutted out over the garden rather obscurely. No one had seen him for more than a few moments at meal time in nearly two weeks. The woman did of course understand her son's troubles. He was a man, after all. And men were bound to have troubles around the tender age of eighteen when innocent things suddenly turn horrid in a swirl of hormones.

A creak on the stairs announced another's arrival. Her husband, a balding kind-faced man ascended the steps. "Good morning, Molly dear" He greeted her, planting a kiss on her cheek. He clutched a briefcase in his hand which he laid upon the stretched kitchen table.

"Arthur…" She began. He picked up a cup of tea and a kettle zoomed from the stove top to fill it with boiling water.

"He just needs time, Molly." He assured her. He had been married to her long enough to know what would be troubling her at that particular moment. "Give him time" He added, because Molly had a tendency to be just a bit pushy especially when it came to her children.

"It's been two weeks!" She started. With a casual flick of her wrist the boiling pot rose into the air and poured itself into the waiting bowls upon the table until it was drained of its contents.

"He's had it rough" Arthur said, and then he flopped down into his seat at the head of the table and stuck his spoon into his mouth before she told him to march upstairs and have another talk with her son. Instead Molly kissed the top of his head and traipsed up the stairs to rouse her children. "Ginny! Fred, George, Percy! Charlie! Bill! Fluer!" She shouted each name as she passed the bedrooms in which they slept. "Breakfast!" She added just as she reached the top landing of the stairs. She could hear evident signs of waking from the rooms as she tapped lightly on the door in front of her. "Ron?" She inquired.

His room was haphazard as usual and he was curled under his favorite Chudly Cannons sleeping bag. Ron had red hair like the rest of his family though his was lighter than the flaming red of his sister's. He had chocolate eyes and freckles, his skin was a light pale color and he was nearly taller than his second eldest brother Charlie at only eighteen. Ron glanced at her from underneath his covers. She saw him hide the letter he had been obsessively reading for the past two days. She sighed. "Come down to breakfast. Afterwards I've got something I would like you to do for me." She spoke softly wishing that she could heal a bit of his broken heart with warm soup and kind words but knowing it was impossible.

"Alright" His voice was hoarse from disuse. "Be down in a bit."

"Make sure you shower" She added, unable to ignore the lingering smell in his room. He simply nodded and she shut the door. She passed her eldest son, Bill on the landing. He was fully dressed as if he had been up for a good while. He was trailed by his strikingly beautiful French wife Fluer whom Molly had become rather friendly to since the pair of them were married despite Bill's accident with the vicious werewolf Fenrir Greyback less than a year prior. "Morning, Mum" Bill greeted. Fleur greeted her with a hug.

At the table the twins, Fred and George, were already settled in and telling their father a rather extensive joke. Her second eldest, Charlie, was spread out across two chair with his eyes closed looking exhausted. Percy and his fiancée Penelope Clearwater were next to ascend the stairs. They were both looking quite smart as they no doubt had work soon and would be leaving quickly after breakfast. He too greeted her with "Morning, Mum" before taking a seat next to the immobile Charlie. Ginny followed down soon after. Unlike the others who were dressed and ready for the day to come she hadn't brushed her long hair and her eyes were bloodshot and sleepy. She stifled a large yawn as she plopped down into a seat next to Bill who was (as it was no secret) her favorite brother. Ron came down long enough to grab his own bowl of soup and retreat back up the stairs.

"Charlie, darling? Could I speak with you please." Molly asked her son. He removed his arm from his face and sat up straight.

"Of course" He said. His eyes were darker than the others and he was a good deal shorter than Ron and the twins. His skin was tan and his hair was sun bleached. Scars of every shape and size run up and down his arms and his hands were calloused. He gathered himself up and followed his mother out into the garden, scattering the feeding chickens and troublesome gnomes as they went. She didn't get too far away from the house before she stopped and turned to him. Charlie, who was used to the rather extreme Romanian temperatures wasn't fazed by the harsh winds brushing the countryside of Ottery St. Catchpole. After all, unlike the unsuspecting townsfolk, HE knew it wasn't a normal summers breeze. "Something up, mum?" His voice bore the hint of a Romanian accent atop his already prominent British accent.

"Well, dear, I was wondering. Your brother Ron's been in a right state lately. He's depressed. I thought it might make him feel a bit better if you would take him to the site with you today. You know how much he admires what you do." Molly was near pleading with her son. It was the only thing she could think of that might could shake Ron out of his depression.

Charlie seemed to be considering it. He rubbed his rough fingers against the stubble of his chin as he thought. Glancing off into the distance, he chewed on his nails. "Sure, mom. He will be the youngest one there but it shouldn't cause a fuss."

"Oh! Charlie! Thank you!" Molly grabbed her son up into a tight hug and planted a kiss upon his cheek. Charlie nodded and, now with new purpose, strode back to the house ahead of his mother. He pushed the door of Ron's room open and found Ron staring at the paper once again. "Oi, Ron" He snapped when his brother only vaguely registered that Charlie had entered his room.

"What?" Ron snapped back. He wondered if his brother was here to give him the same talk his father had when he had entered his room a few days ago.

"Your coming with me today. Get cleaned up. And don't argue" He added. "Wear your boots, too." Charlie said before closing the door and descending the stairs. Ron knew better than to argue with Charlie who was quite sizable despite his stocky stature. Ron would have been ecstatic at the prospect of following his brother to work though now it seemed his feelings were numb and unreachable. Somewhere deep within his stomach he felt a mild thrill.

Once dressed Ron bid his family, or what was left of them who hadn't gone to work goodbye, and followed Charlie out into the yard. He watched Bill apperate, followed closely by Percy and Penelope. Finally, his father disappeared with a little wave. "Got to apparate to the site" Charlie was saying "We have it under major protection, considering." He caught hold of his brothers wrist. A fresh gust of wind and displaced dirt seemed to consume them and by the time the dust cleared the pair of brothers had gone.

Not-so-far-away from the village of Ottery St. Catchpole nestled into a hillside was a wide clearing. It was protected by dangerous hillsides on either side of it. Constructed near one edge of the hillside was a rather large iron box. It looked like a massively oversized dog crate covered in a tarp that had been obviously expanded. It protected the creature inside the crate from the sun that had now reached the highest point in the sky. The pair of brothers landed among the clearing just near enough to hear the creature give a wild snarl. Around the opposite side of the hill tents were constructed and seemed unaffected by the wind caused by the giant beasts wing beats.

In the center of the site people were creating a large puddle of water, no doubt vast and deep enough for the creature to swim in, while others simply ran about barking orders. "It's a ridgeback?" Ron asked, squinting through the light. His eyes were wide with sudden interest, a spark of excitement sending adrenaline through his veins.

"Good eye" Charlie praised him. He edged a bit closer. Ron noticed that a few people were lounging by the tents where a campfire had been constructed. They were seemingly unawares of the creature causing such a fuss.

"That's the safe zone" Charlie said as he followed Ron's gaze. "I want you to stay over there for now. Looks like they are about to let her out for a bit." He gave Ron a stern don't-even-try-to-argue look before dashing off to join the others. Grudgingly, Ron headed over to the tent. Once he passed through the rift of protective enchantments he felt the warm caress of the campfire and burning sausages.

"Oh my!" One woman exclaimed. She was lounging in a chair that looked out of place in the field and her cheek was split in two, showing off her white teeth. Ron shuddered. Despite the chunk of flesh missing she gave him a warm smile. "Don't you look just like Bill! Goodness" She leaned forward in order to get a better look at him through the thick goggles. Ron recognized her as Anya, a girl whom Charlie often brought to dinner with him, despite his saying she's 'just a friend'.

"Spitting imagine of your mum's blood, you are." Ron blushed. Did she call Charlie the 'spitting image of your dad's blood' just like Percy and Ginny who were all a bit shorter and whose hair and eyes were darker than Bill, Ron and the twins. "Oi! You lot" Anya snapped "Come welcome Charlies little brother" In response, a number of women poured out of the tents. Some of them, like Anya, were Dragon women. Dragon women was a term Charlie had come up with to describe the dangerous girls who chose to work with Dragons. They were wild, had an unquenchable thirst for adventure, and lived off thrill. Most of them carried scars and tattoos and wore uniforms, leather clad.

"Good god, Anya! Which one?" An older, more sour looking woman asked. She had obviously just been roused. "Who know's how many kids the Weasley's have now." She added in a mutter.

"Oh hush, Tilda" Another woman, who looked as if she could snap Ron in half, growled. "Keeps the family name well enough alive, dunit?"

"Your just jealous Bill spurned your advances. He's married now. Time to bury the hatchet" Anya chuckled before pushing the tip of her wand against what was left of her cheek "Guess I oughta clean myself up for you, eh, Ron? Not every day you see something so grotesque, right?" She was no doubt commenting on the half-horrified look plastered upon Ron's face. Without muttering another word the wound began to repair itself, skin crawling up her jaw until it sowed itself shut leaving nothing but a thin line to ever prove there had been such a wound. After a few more seconds, that was gone, too.

Tilda, who seemed to be rendered speechless, returned to her tent in a huff. "Don't listen to her, Ron. Ruddy cranky woman. Took too long to get this ol' brute moved for Tilda's liking. Suppose she thought we'd be home by now." Anya said, nodding in the direction of the dragon. It was free from its cage and it had waded happily into the vast pool of water like an oversized Labrador. Charlie and his co-workers watched it anxiously, wands raised. Then, Ron noticed, something moved on the other end of the pool.

He almost couldn't believe what he was seeing. A girl, perhaps a phantom, stood at the edge of the water. He couldn't see her details through the haze of flame the dragon was spouting from its nostrils and he wondered for a moment if it was a mirage. The girl raised her arms above her head as if to dive into the depths of the dragon haunted water. Ron wasn't sure why because he knew the protective enchantments kept the dragon from seeing/hearing them as much as the other way around but he found himself yelling "NO! No, what are you doing!" He had risen from his chair and was heading towards the barrier when Anya caught his hand.

"Ron! Relax! If you go out there now Charlie will kill me. Sit down. She's ok" Anya pulled him back towards his seat. She had seen the suicidal girl, too, then.

"S-she…j-j-jumped!" He stuttered, not sure if he could believe his eyes. The girl hadn't emerged from the depths of the water. The dragon had stuffed his snout under the waves it's wings were creating and the flames had finally ceased.

"Yeah, she did. But it's ok. Mind, don't you go trying something like that." Anya scolded, watching ripples form in the water as the girl emerged. Her hair was a bleached sort of reddish color and her skin bore the hint of olive.

"What's she doing?" Ron squeaked. He couldn't believe anyone but Hagrid would be insane enough to swim with a dragon. And even for Hagrid, that might be a stretch.

Anya just shrugged as if this were the sort of behavior she saw all the time. "Haven't a clue" She said, flopping back down into the chair she had conjured for herself. Ron finally managed to drop down into his own chair, eyes wide.

"She's mental" He finally managed to say. Anya let out a pleasant, musical laugh.

"You might just be right about that" She was still laughing as the girl bobbed along the surface of the water. The dragon had noticed her and Ron found himself on his feet again, anxious. The expansive black dragon split the water as it paddled towards her. The suction it was creating alone would be enough to drown her. Instead, though, it stopped short of her and leaned it's head down until it was floating on the water like an odd, ridged flotation device.

"It's going to eat her" He stated. Anya laughed again.

The girl reached her hand out and placed it gently atop the dragon's snout. The creature quivered as if it had been struck by lightning. And then she swam closer until the dragons nose was nestled into her cleavage and she was hugging it awkwardly, lying her head against its forehead. "Mental" Ron found himself saying. But he was mesmerized. Despite his horror, he couldn't look away. The girl swam away from the dragon and pulled herself up onto the edge of the bank. She was wearing a bathing suit, of all things. Slowly, the dragon followed her, looking more like an oversized Labrador every second. Finally the beast tucked itself back into its cage with the girls prompting. Charlie and his men sprung into action and locked the dragon up once more.

Ron could see his brother shaking her hand. He dropped his tan-hide coat onto her shoulders and she turned away from him across the clearing. Once she past the pool of water the dragon went back to thrashing around and shooting fire as if that moment of calm had never happened. Ron convinced himself that he was dreaming. Until, that is, the girl stepped into the barrier with the other women.

She smelt weird; like dirt, sea water, earth and ash. She had sun-bleached blonde hair with a deep red tint to it. Her skin bore hints of olive color. She was tall, lean and fit. A smile, despite the danger of the situation she was just in, was plastered to her face. After ducking into a nearby tent she emerged a bit later with a towel in her hair. She too wore tight fitting neutral colors that were easy to maneuver in but didn't have an excessive amount of fabric attached. It looked like an outfit a warrior might sport.

She dropped Charlie's jacket into Anya's lap. "He is a good man, Charlie" She said. Her accent was deep and slurred her words. "He knows what he is doing better than some of those idiots" Her accent made her sound a bit older than she was though she couldn't have been older than Ron. By much, anyway.

"Some of those idiots are our husbands" Tilda snapped, emerging once more from her tent.

"That should not matter. If they do not have talent then they do not." The girl said, shrugging. Anya jumped up, evidently seeing the retort forming on Tilda's lips.

"Matilda! Why don't you go help with lunch, hm?" She said. The woman gave her a long scornful look but huffed off towards a camp fire farther away where some women were gathered, flicking their wands and making the food prepare itself. "Good lord" Anya muttered, dropping back down onto her chair. Charlie had joined them by this point and seemed to be inspecting the would on Anya's face.

"That looks better" He said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. Anya blushed fifteen shades of scarlet in the span of a few seconds.

"Charlie!" She stammered, swatting at him. He dodged it and conjured two more chairs around the fire. The other men were joining them too, grumbling about starving to death.

"So, Ron, what did you think?" Charlie asked. He sat across the fire from Ron and wore a haughty expression.

"It was mad. I mean she – she's mad!" he said, pointing to the girl who had flopped into the other chair Charlie had created. He still wasn't sure how she was sitting there in one piece.

"Not mad, little brother, brilliant. She's brilliant." Charlie grabbed the sausage Anya passed to him and stuck it in his mouth.

"How can you call that brilliant! You spend your life teaching people about how dangerous dragons are and she just decides to SWIM with them! Bloody hell, Charlie! That can't be LEGAL!" Ron bellowed, slightly enraged. Every rule of working with Dragons was embedded into his brain as it had been since his brother started working with them.

"Settle down" Charlie said, rolling his eyes. "She's a special case, Ron."

"Special? She needs to be committed to St. Mungo's!" He wasn't sure if he was just horrified by what he had witnessed or too amazed to be calm about it.

"If you were wondering" The girl spoke up "I may not speak very good English but I can hear every word you say." She growled. Ron's ears turned red and he mumbled 'I'm sorry.'

"Dun' worry about it" Anya intervened. "Look, Ron. This is Alexi Dragomir. She was born in Romania. Her people, well, they are closer to nature than wizards. They have powers that you couldn't imagine that protects them from getting fried. The dragon's trust them. This one is especially attached to Alexi."

"She was born in my village. I was the one who cared for her when she was little." Alexi spoke up. "She is like a familiar" Ron stared at her. If he was being honest, he had no idea what she had just said. Something about being born in a village and 'like a familiar'. Other than that, her accent slurred her words beyond his recognition.

"Er, uh, ok. Cool" He eyed his brother who was laughing.

"You might want to get used to Alexi, Ron" Anya said. Her tone sounded mocking which made Ron suspicious.

"Why? Will she be another one of my beautiful, hard to understand step sisters soon?" He retorted, feeling hot under his skin. It wasn't a surprise to anyone that he was still jealous of Bill for marrying Fluer, whom he had such a crush on in his fourth year.

Anya looked taken-aback. "Not if I can help it, she won't!" But she was laughing.

"Good try though, bro" Charlie chuckled too. Alexi either didn't understand them or didn't care about what they were saying. She was hyper focused on her breakfast. "She's Anya's half-sister"

"Half-sister?" Ron said, eyeing Anya and Alexi and comparing their features.

"I ended up in her village on accident while traveling after the war. I knew my father had another child but he had never allowed me to meet her. It was her mother in fact that stopped me and told me I looked just like my father. It was rather surreal."

Ron frowned. The war. He felt weird knowing that he was going back to Hogwarts this year. Last year, of course, Harry, Hermione and him had dropped out to go search for Horcrux's. Once the last of the Death Eaters had been rounded up they decided they would return along with Neville, Luna, Shamus and a number of other's who had their seventh years ruined by 'Headmaster' Snape and hadn't learned enough to properly pass their N.E.W.T.S. Of course this meant they would now be in class with his youngest sister, Ginny but Hermione seemed to think that their education was worth returning to once He-who-must-not-be-named was vanquished for good.

They didn't talk much after that. Lunch was served and everyone ate. Some of the men told Ron wild stories about their adventures overseas before they returned to work. Charlie and Anya both went to gather food for the dragon and left Ron along with the cranky, bristling Matilda and the elusive, thickly accented Alexi. Hours passed. Ron found himself zoning in and out of focus while he watched the Ridgeback that seemed to have peculiar habits for a dragon. Whenever a wizard would get close to her she would make a huge fuss. Once the wizards were a good distance away, however, she settled down as if she weren't the least bit worried about being caged by a bunch of tasty snacks. After a while, it seemed, Ron doze off in his chair.

Anya's face swam before his vision. "C' mon, Ron. Wake up, won't you?" She was lightly patting him on the cheek. Ron realized that he had fallen asleep and despite the fact that it was the first nightmare less sleep he had gotten since the beginning of the summer he couldn't help but be morbidly embarrassed by the drool hanging from his chin.

"Huh? Anya…" He glanced around. The dragon was sleeping, or so he assumed. Darkness had fallen and the cage looked like nothing more than another large hill. Most people had retired to their tents. Charlie was finishing off a messy lump of food and Alexi was staring at the fire without really seeing.

"Mornin' sleepy head!" Anya chirped. She suddenly reminded him painfully of Tonks.

"Is it time to go?" Ron asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Ah, yeah" Charlie said, setting his plate down by Anya's chair and standing up to stretch. "You coming?" He asked Anya. She glanced at Ron as if she should be embarrassed by the invitation. After a moments deliberation she nodded her head. Charlie grabbed Ron's wrist.

Charlie dragged Ron into the tight drainpipe that was Apparition before the lot of them landed in the garden. Mrs. Weasley could be seen peaking around her curtains. More likely to check and make sure they were all in one piece. Anya bounced towards the door to greet her.

"What kind of 'people' does Alexi belong to?" Ron asked. The question had been burning in his mind for some time now but he hadn't gotten an opportunity to ask. Charlie led the way to the kitchen and held the door open for Ron.

"She's a Gypsy." He said, and without another word, flopped onto the couch next to where Anya was sitting and rested his head upon her lap. Within moments, his snores could be heard.

"G' night, Ron" Anya said, and she too closed her eyes as if to sleep.

Ron ascended the steps to his own room. He felt exhausted as well even though he hadn't done anything but lounge in a chair all day. Still, the adrenaline of first seeing the Horntail had washed from his system and it left him positively drained. Without bothering to close his door he flopped onto his bed and fell immediately back into sleep.

The letter that so bothered him lay crinkled beneath his torso as he twisted and dreamed of flying through the sky on the back of a jet black dragon.

A/n – Thank you for getting this far in my story. If you enjoyed it please review and stay tuned for the next installment.


End file.
